


Up In Flames

by Actual_Trash_Can



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Trash_Can/pseuds/Actual_Trash_Can
Summary: Bellamy catches Clarke in an intimate moment, but when they find themselves locked in the room together, things take a turn.





	Up In Flames

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after S4 EP5 "The Tinder Box", after Ilian sets fire to the Ark. Everyone is feeling a little hopeless, so things go in a direction they may not have otherwise.

It had been a week since the Ark had been set aflame and she had been forced to stand and watch in horror as her people’s only chance at survival burned to the ground. The days since then had been long ad painful, spent cleaning up the wreckage and saving what was salvageable. Clarke’s was grateful that her room hadn’t taken too much damage during the fire, so she still had a place of solitude when the stress overtook her. Unfortunately, solitude only goes so far when the stress keeps you from sleeping, eating, and all but functioning.

The light of dawn crept in through the slats in the metal wall and illuminated her room, marking the end of another sleepless night. She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, slowly rustling in her bed and reaching over to her nightstand, feeling around for the small metal object Raven had crafted for her. “A stress reliever.” Raven had smirked, tucking the object into Clarke’s hand when no one was looking. It had taken Clarke all of 10 minutes to discover the power of it the first night, now it had become standard in her daily routine. What better to battle the weight of the world on your shoulders than daily orgasms?

Clarke turned the device on and felt her muscles relaxing at the familiar buzz, anticipation igniting her sleep deprived body. She kicked her sheets to the side and wriggled out of her shirt in two swift movements, leaving her barren to the cold of the Ark’s air. Her nipples pebbled up as she ran her hands down her body, slowly, tenderly, trying to channel the last time she felt warm in someone else’s arms. She let herself melt into the bed under her own touch, teasing her fingers lightly over her arms, her breasts, her stomach, and finally grazing the moist fabric between her thighs.

Usually, she liked to draw out her personal time, since she didn’t get much of it these days. But all she wanted right now was to feel release. To be blissful and euphoric for those few moments where she gets to forget about reality. So she rushed to pull her underwear down her legs and kicked them across the room, eagerly reaching for her vibrator that’s been tickling the side of her stomach for minutes now. She traced circles around her vulva, starting at the outer lips and slowly honing in on the bundle of nerves that ached for her attention.

In a moment of inspiration she reached over to the nightstand again and pulled her hairbrush out of the drawer. With minimal hesitation she slowly pushed it into herself, a moan escaping as she felt herself clench against the unfamiliar stretch. It had been months since she’d felt anyone fill her, caress her walls in ways that her fingers couldn’t do. She closed her eyes and imagined a warm body attached to the phallic object thrusting into her. The vibrations echoed from her core through her whole body, lighting every bit of her on fire. Her thrusting became more erratic as she felt herself getting close, holding back her noises became a feat she wasn’t willing to fight. She was getting closer, louder, tenser…

“Clarke are you okay!?” a voice startled her as she barely registered a body barrelling through her door. She found herself staring face to face with Bellamy, both frozen in surprise, afraid to speak before the other. Once enough time had passed that she shook herself out of her sudden death via mortification, she finally brought herself to string together a sentence. “BELLAMY GET THE FUCK OUT!” she yelled hysterically as she grasped for the blanket bunched on the opposite side of the bed, trying to cover any inch of herself he hadn’t already seen.

“I-I’m sorry” he stuttered “shit, SHIT I’M SO SORRY.” He sprung towards the door and grabbed at the handle, all but ready to pull the door off it’s hinges if it meant getting out of there quickly enough. But with his white knuckles grasping the handle and all the muscles in his arm working overtime, he realized that the door was jammed shut. In an attempt to remedy the situation, he slapped one hand over his eyes, reaching the other out in mercy towards the bed. “I’m sorry, the door won’t open. The fire must have melted the door hinges or something... Fuck, I’ll just… uh I’ll hang in the bathroom until someone can get the door open!” He mumbled the last part as he swiveled on his feet and headed in the direction of the bathroom, blindly feeling around with his free hand while the other dared not move from their safe perch over his eyes.

Clarke sighed defeatedly, having not been able to say much in the shock of the last two minutes. She watched as Bellamy tripped over her backpack and attempted to regain his composure before continuing his blind adventure towards the corner of the room. “You don’t have to do that” she said hesitantly, “hide in the bathroom, I mean.” Bellamy slowly lowered his hand from his eyes but kept his body turned away. He seemed to be waiting for further instructions, so Clarke continued. “Look if we really do only have a few weeks left, I’m not going to make you spend them in a closet sized bathroom waiting for repair to come save us. I was making the best of my time before you showed up, you should do the same.” He weighed her words carefully, unsure of her intentions. “You want me to… masterba-“

“No!” Clarke cut him off, anxiety and laughter combining in her throat. “No, I just mean, don’t let me stop you from doing whatever you want to do. I’m not going to let you stop me. If we don’t survive, I want to know I at least enjoyed my last while on earth.” And with that, the buzzing whirred up again, muffled by the blanket and the sound of Bellamy clearing his throat. He was still facing away from her, considering how to proceed, when a tiny moan escaped from the bed behind him, making the decision for him.

He turned around cautiously, preparing himself for another berating or possibly objects flying at his head, but what he found instead was a tiny Clarke writhing under her white sheet, eyes closed tightly, and mouth parted in a gleeful pant. It was odd seeing his closest friend in such a compromising and vulnerable position. It wasn’t like he had never had sex with friends before, him and Raven had fooled around and it hadn’t changed their dynamic. But there was something about watching Clarke touch herself that felt far more intimate. Before he knew it, he found his pants growing tighter at the thought.

He spotted a chair near the bed and quickly opted to sit, hoping he could disguise his growing member by crossing his legs or folding his hands in his lap, but just as he was adjusting Clarke piped up.  
“That looks awfully uncomfortable.” His eyes darted up and caught her amused look.

“And who’s fault would that be.” He played along, mirroring her smirk to mask his tension. This was uncharted territory for them. Each word felt dangerous, but he pushed those thoughts under, continuing to feed off her responses.

“I’m not the one who walked in without knocking.” She bit back playfully.

“You’re right, I’m sorry I interrupted your fun time.” He shifted in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“It’s fine, you’re not standing in my way.” She winked.

“Ohhh do I sense a little voyeurism, princess?”

A strangled moan escaped her mouth, surprising them both. Clarke’s face flushed pink and she turned her head away, trying to hide it.

“What was that?” Bellamy chuckled, slowly catching on. “Do you like it when I call you that… Princess?”

Clarke shifted in her spot, biting her lip and keeping her face turned away.

Bellamy’s eyes grew dark as he realized his sudden power in the situation. He felt his heartbeat throbbing in his pants, begging for release, and decided to give in. He slowly started palming himself over the taught fabric, searching for more ways to make Clarke squirm under his gaze.

“So does the Princess want to show me how she makes herself feel good?”

Clarke’s body was still as she digested everything that was happening. After a few moments, she made the decision to act now and think later, and with that she turned back to face him. At some point when she was looking away, he had rid himself of his shirt and unbuttoned his fly, and was now slowly stroking himself over his boxers. The sight was enough to make her clench around her hairbrush, which sent shivers through her whole body. She decided to give him a view for himself and slowly peeled her sheet off, watching his eyes widen as every inch of her became visible.

“Wow…” Bellamy began, raking his eyes up and down her body. “A hairbrush.” He noted with a slight nod. “Someone was a little desperate to be fucked.”

Clarke moaned a tiny “mhm”, keeping her eyes fixed on his face as she thrusted the hair brush into herself. He made her feel dirty and exposed, feelings she never thought would turn her on. She found herself staring at his clothed erection, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips as her mouth grew dryer.

“See something you like?” Bellamy catches on.

“Not much to see…” Clarke whispers, keeping her eyes fixed to the steady movements of his hand. He slowly moved to the elastic of his boxers, dipping his thumb underneath them teasingly. Clarke bit her lip, finding herself holding on to his every move. With painfully slow movements, he pulled the boxers down, exposing himself inch by inch until he’s finally completely free. His cock springs up against his stomach to stand to attention. He wrapped his hand around it and began rubbing himself slowly, gliding his thumb over his slit every time he reached the top. The reddened head of his cock against his tanned skin is the most erotic sight Clarke thinks she’s ever seen. “What about now?” He rasps.

She chances a glance up at his face and is met with darkness she hasn’t ever seen in him. His eyes capture hers and keep them glued there, telling her silent stories of what he wants to do to her. The lust in his gaze spurs her on and her hands start moving faster, too eager to go slow. Her thrusts become erratic and she feels a sting as she shoved her hairbrush as deep into herself as she can manage. Her other hand is making steady work of her clit, rubbing the vibrator as hard against herself as she can. Her climax suddenly erupts, taking her by surprise. Her movements still completely as she throws one of her arms across her face, biting down on her forearm to muffle her screams. Her cunt convulses around her hairbrush as she comes down from her high.

Once she regains enough composure to open her eyes, she sees Bellamy watching her intently, steady at work on himself. He’s slouched back in his chair, his composure lazy and relaxed, his strokes languid but calculated.

“That was some show, Princess.”

Clarke finds herself at a loss for words. The after wave of her orgasm still washing over her body. Instead she just scoots over, making room for him in her bed, hoping the invitation is obvious enough.

He eyes the spot on the bed and then raises his eyebrows at her, seeking confirmation that she wants this to move forward. With a small nod of her head, he takes a deep breath before toeing off his boots and shucking his pants and boxers. He crawls onto her bed cautiously, laying down to face her. Their bodies are inches apart, their eyes locked together, and suddenly the air is harder to breathe.

“Bellamy…” Clarke begged, those breathless words igniting something within him. Suddenly his hands were everywhere as his lips crashed into hers. There was no tenderness in the kiss, it was needy and messy, full of want. He rolled them over so his body hovered above hers, one hand caressing her face while the other left goosebumps down her stomach. Clarke tangled her hands in his hair, wrapping her fingers around each soft curl, and tugged experimentally. He chuckled lowly and looked up through hooded eyes from where he was sucking bruising kisses onto her chest.

“Patience, Princess. I’m going to take care of you.” He assured her.

The promise sent chills down her spine, but she quickly warmed back up when he started tracing her slit with his fingers. He bumped her clit with his thumb and Clarke’s entire body twitched, still sensitive from her orgasm. Her movement earned her a warm smile as Bellamy eased up on the area, moving instead to her entrance. He pushed one of his digits inside her experimentally, watching her face to gauge her reaction. Any last hint of unease melted from her features as she gave in to the pleasure coiling in her abdomen. It wasn’t long until Bellamy added a second finger, and then a third, gently coaxing her towards her release. She glanced down at him where his head was resting on her stomach, looking up at her with such determination. She watched as he thrusted into the bed, desperate to get himself some friction, yet still remained focused on her and her alone.

“C’mere.” Clarke panted, tugging on his hair again to guide him closer towards her. He readjusted himself, so he was laying perpendicular to her body, their faces now at eye level once again. She kept his gaze locked in her own like he had with her earlier, and traced her hand down his abs until she found the little tuft of hair leading towards his groin. His breath caught when she ventured further down and wrapped her shaking hand around the base of his cock. As she started stroking, a strangled moan came from somewhere deep within Bellamy’s chest. She merely saw his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth part slightly before he tucked his face into the crook of her neck and continued his own steady work on her mound.

They fell into a rhythm, feeding off each other’s thrusts and listening intently for every noise. Bellamy had scooted closer up against Clarke’s side, so she was cupping his cock between her hand and her stomach, letting him thrust into her soft skin at his own pace. Bellamy’s hand was thrusting 3 fingers in and out of her slowly, curling them up against the spot that makes her keen every time he found it. His thumb was tapping a steady beat onto her clit, breaking tempo every few moments to rub it in small circles. Clarke could feel herself getting closer as her cunt clenched around Bellamy’s fingers and she felt fire crawl up her lower back.

“Bell, I’m gonna come.” She whispers into his nest of hair.

“Me too.” Bellamy responds in a broken voice. He sounds so far gone, Clarke’s never seen him this out of control, and it does something to her. The fact that she’s the person he trusts enough to let himself go with is enough to push her over the edge. Her climax this time is much more powerful than the last, wracking her entire body with shivers as she convulses under Bellamy’s touch. He doesn’t let up on her clit, instead guiding her through her orgasm. She faintly registers the sound of him groaning in her ear and a wetness spreading out across her belly, but she doesn’t pay it any attention. She feels like she’s floating, her mind and body escaping into another universe.

When she finally comes back down to earth, Bellamy is walking across the room towards her bathroom. Despite everything that just happened, this was the first time she got a good look at his toned form. His skin glistened under the natural light filling her room, his smattering of freckles meeting up like constellations across his body. His hair was matted down a little with sweat, but she still wanted to wrap her hands in it, tuck that one stray hair falling down his forehead behind his ear.

She realized she had been staring when he walked back into the room holding a damp cloth. The bed dipped under his knee as he leaned onto the mattress and began cleaning her up. The act was so intimate and gentle, she felt her face flushing pink again under his touch. When he was done he threw the cloth into the sink in her bathroom and joined her back in bed. They hadn’t said a word to each other yet, but it didn’t feel like they needed to. Clarke reached out for his hand tentatively, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to, but Bellamy just interlocked their fingers and shifted onto his back, pulling Clarke up against his side and throwing his other arm around her waist. The warmth of his body and the rise and fall of his chest lulled Clarke to sleep, but just before she drifted off she felt Bellamy press a soft kiss to her forehead.


End file.
